Flickering Torch
by HawkPen
Summary: -Complete- A patient fox has planned his revenge for ten years against those who scorned him. A long-dead romance will be avenged, and the landscape of Mossflower Woods will be changed and riddled with blood forever. There may be no survivors.
1. Scorned Memories

**I honestly have no idea how the idea for this fic came to me, it just did. I got the original idea at school once, but looking at the outline I made up, I can't figure it out. I really have hopes for this fic. There will be many twists, readers, and nothing will be the same in Mossflower again. And that's NOT just a dramatic way to attract readers. That's the truth. BTW: While I still have this thought in my head, before I start writing: This prolly isn't going to be very long. Now, without further ado: Flickering Torch!**

Scorned Memories

The black fox raised his eyes to the red, stoned walls of the evil Abbey. His eyes clouded over with a reddish haze, but it was no Bloodwrath. This haze was a desire, not a sickness. It was the burning desire for retribution. Revenge. It was something he needed. It was something he _needed._ It wasn't something he wanted.

He sat below in the ditch, famous as all surrounding features of Redwall are. Many a story goes with a specific tree or ditch near Redwall. Perhaps a famous vermin hid there, attacked there, or was killed there. It mattered not. He sat in this famous ditch. The dirt was tinged red from the blood of distant generations. It had been countless seasons since anything had happened at Redwall. Seasons of peace flourished within Mossflower Wood. It was something this fox couldn't stand. It was something this fox was determined to end.

His name was Vaglu the Demon. He had been hurt, long ago. His wrong would be righted, of this, he was determined. He balled his fists and threw punches toward Redwall, dreaming that his fists tore down the walls and killed all of those inside. Of course, this didn't happen. No matter what, though, memories still burned deep inside him.

_No! I would never have! I _loved _her! Don't you understand that?_

_ It's far beyond the point where that matters, Vaglu. I should've listened to that old badger whilst she was young in her seasons. She knew the story of Veil, a story much like yours. You are a vermin, and a vermin you shall forever be. Now _go!_ And don't ever come back!_

Her image burned his heart. It was seasons ago that it happened. In Vaglu's mind, that poor child should never have been born. In Vaglu's mind, _he_ should have never been born either. He long dreamed of destroying the Abbot for what the old coot did to his own daughter. He refused justice. When she died, it was without cause. When she died, it was for nothing.

XXX

Vaglu then sat behind the very last tree. It was the very last haven from the sight of the hare sentries of Salamandastron. He again went through the punching motions. This was where it had all started. Vaglu always felt that this Badger Lord went out of his way to cause hell for him. He would have his revenge. It was nearly ten years ago, and while everyone else that had ever been involved with him thought nothing of this anniversary, had forgotten it even, Vaglu thought everything of it. Everyone that had scorned him would have revenge exacted upon them. Of this, he was sure. There were few he would even think to spare, and only one he cared to spare. There was a faint scent of death on the winds.

_Funny,_ he thought. _Death. Indeed, there _will_ be death. This will be the last attack on both Redwall_ and _Salamandastron. I will never allow any of them to treat anyone else as they did. They chose their paths, and I chose mine. Mine? Mine was to make them pay for choosing. And that is what I shall do._

**Not much, right? Don't worry, the next chapter will jump to Redwallers' POV. Didn't I say this would be short in the first place?**


	2. The Enemy of My Enemy

The Enemy of My Enemy

Abbot Dirkalt had led a very interesting life. He had always been a large mouse. During his life, he had been many things. He was a quiet, well-behaved Dibbun. He never caused trouble, until he was about seven years old. When it came time for him to get serious about his education at the Abbey, he ran away from Redwall. The Abbey dwellers presumed him dead after days of exhaustive search.

He had hiked to the northlands with enough of a head start to never be caught. It was there he unleashed his true passion. He trained himself to fight. He was fascinated with fighting and the art, if there was any, in killing. This was a dangerous path that ran completely against the Abbey's laws. Dirkalt would've kept from the Abbey forever if he weren't lonely. He practically feared being alone. It's not that he couldn't take care of himself. He did his best thinking, fighting, and work alone. It was almost for the best for him to be alone, but he needed companionship. He knew he would never be accepted as he was, a killer. He had terrorized any vermin in a five-mile radius of him.

Back at the Abbey, they were under attack by a small group of rats. They killed anyone that dared poke their head out from the gates. They shot arrows over the walls whenever they felt like it. Redwall had no warriors. There were no need for any. They prayed that any of their allies would come, but the rats continued to plague the Abbey. Dirkalt marched along the path nonchalantly, unaware of the nearby danger. It was only when a rat jumped in front if his path with a knife that he stopped still. He waltzed up to the rat and grabbed his wrist, twisted it, spun the rat around, and launched his foot into the rat's back.

With their comrade dead, the remaining five rats cornered him. Two took up archer positions in the trees. Three charged him head on with their knives. Dirkalt wasn't fazed. He slashed at one and used his leg to kick him in the knee. The rat's leg was broken. Then, Dirkalt threw his knife right into the second rat's heart. The third rat was the most experienced of the two. Dirkalt, however, saw a rat notch an arrow and take aim.

Dirkalt threw a punch at the third rat. The rat grabbed Dirkalt's wrist and was about to manipulate when Dirkalt ducked. The arrow hit the rat in the thigh. Dirkalt took the knife and stabbed the rat. Then, he took two knifes and threw them in the trees. The archers dropped out of the trees.

The rat with a broken leg began to crawl from the fight. Dirkalt leapt toward the crippled rat and took his neck in his hands. Like a tree snapping in the wind, Dirkalt twisted and snapped the rat's neck.

This had made Dirkalt a man of complications. When he realized the power in his own hands, he forswore violence. However, upon the sight of vermin, he practically foamed and could barely contain his rage. He would weep in his sleep when he had encountered no tragedy that the Redwallers knew about. But that was just it. He had encountered no tragedy that they _knew_ about. Dirkalt himself remembered every waking moment of his hell.

_"But if they can't defend themselves, they are only getting what they _deserve!_"_

_ "If you were defenseless, would your current ideals change? Don't you care! You know that's how she died!"_ he had shouted.

_ "Yeah, it was a death she had begged for!"_

_ "She never did! She was over it! She loved you too much to let herself die!"_

_ "Yeah, but she never loved you."_

_ "You don't know anything. She died so you could live. She died defenseless. Did she get what she deserved?"_

_ "No. She got what she had always wanted, Father,"_ the young mouse had said to him. That was the last Dirkalt had ever seen of him. He carried his personal crosses deep in the heart he had left in the north.

XXX

Abbot Dirkalt ordered a feast in memory of his daughter. It had been ten years since she had died. She had committed suicide, leaving her daughter without a parent. Both the mother and the father were gone. _All because of Vaglu._ Dirkalt made sure that nobody ever talked about Vaglu. The story nearly drove him to kill himself, something he could not do. The Abbey must survive. He adjusted his long, green habit and tightened his sandals.

Dirkalt was not just tall, but he was wide. His arms bulged from muscle, although it was concealed under his habit. He placed a massive paw on his forehead and brushed the sweat from him brow. His bushy eyebrows looked like a caterpillar on his head. His green eyes hazed over with a look of bittersweet serenity.

He beckoned a young mouse over to him. Lyra was his daughter's daughter, a child that had brought more troubles and more tears to the Abbey than she could ever understand. He brushed the mouse maid's hair and leaned towards her ear.

"My dear, run to the kitchens with all speed! Tell Friar Thiolt that there is to be a feast!" Dirkalt whispered.

"A feast?" Lyra squeaked.

"A feast!" Dirkalt echoed. Lyra wasted no time in running through the Abbey and nearly pouncing on the Friar, relating Dirkalt's words.

XXX

Vaglu wandered through the forests north of Redwall. He never wasted time, and he covered ground with all haste. He wandered the forest hoping to be caught. The Flitchaye roamed this edge of the forest. He was determined to learn their secrets. With their knowledge of drugging, he knew his revenge would be a step closer.

XXX

Badger Lord Belorn was more commonly known by his nickname, Brockfeet. He had the largest feet known of any Badger. He could step on a weasel and crush it to a pancake. One enemy he could not crush, however, was the corsair captain Lorga that attacked the coast. Lorga made sure that no hare ever got into or left Salamandastron. Belorn was ready to sacrifice himself so that Lorga would be killed. He called in one of his most trusted hares and spoke with him in the forges.

"Sir, you summoned me?" the hare asked.

"Indeed. Have you heard the legend of Dirkalt?" Belorn asked.

"Indeed, Sir. Did he not slay five vermin with his bare hands?"

"So I hear. I'm wondering if you couldn't run a mission for me," Belorn said.

"But Lorga does not allow anyone to exit the mountain!" the hare exclaimed.

"He will. I have a plan, if you think you can run a message. I need a warrior like Dirkalt to help me destroy Lorga," Belorn said.

"What sort of plan?"

"A plan only a few brave hares could manage," Belorn answered.

XXX

The Painted Ones roamed these woods. Vaglu knew that. He had learned the secrets of the Flitchaye. Now, he intended to learn about poisoning from the Painted Ones.

"Armed with the secrets of the most dangerous tribes, Mossflower Woods will fall to me!" Vaglu shouted aloud. Wind shook the trees and carried his threat through the woods.

Far away, Dirkalt was chilled by a ferocious wind. He could almost hear Vaglu screaming the very threats he screamed on that day, ten years ago, when he was cast away from the Abbey. Dirkalt shivered and went inside, blocking those thoughts from his head and refusing to believe Vaglu was still alive.

_"I am forever Vaglu the Demon! I will kill you, all of you miserable monsters! No one will ever be tortured because of you!"_


	3. Appeal to a Warrior

**I hate feast scenes with all my heart. I cannot write them. Watching me try to write a feast scene would make a good spectator sport.**

Appeal to a Warrior

Abbot Dirkalt had ordered the feast preparations in secret. It had taken nearly the entire week, but all the work seemed to pay off. Friar Thiolt poured long hours into cakes, pastries, pies, fish, and fruits. Dirkalt had announced the feast publicly just the night before. He was about to exit the battlements, where he always sat in times of stress, when he heard something charging towards the Abbey. He leaned up, stared out at the path ahead, and listened.

It was evening, of course. These kinds of feasts were held best at the night hours. Moonlight shined on the South Path, and Dirkalt began to make out a shape trudging through the darkness. The first thing he noticed were the two, floppy ears in the moonlight. Dirkalt knew it was a hare. He had memories of hares.

_"You should be wary of him. Be sure to send the bally chap to us, should you find him, eh?" Sergeant Darion said._

If only Dirkalt had heeded those words. Those were the words over which he would've killed himself. He would've killed himself, too, long ago, if it weren't for Lyra. Someone had to survive for her. She had no parents. _She doesn't have Willow anymore._

"You there, hare! What do you want?" Dirkalt shouted at the figure on the path.

"I bring a message from the bally Lord himself, wot wot!" the hare shouted back.

"Wait just a moment! I will be right down!" Dirkalt shouted. He climbed from the battlements, disappearing from the hare's view. The gate opened. An arrow flew, oblivious and unnoticed by anyone, and landed several yards from the gate. The hare entered and Dirkalt closed the gate.

"So what does Lord Brockfeet desire from the Abbey?" Dirkalt asked.

"I need to speak with a warrior named Dirkalt. You don't know where I could find him, eh, chap?" the hare asked.

"You would be looking at him," Dirkalt answered.

The hare began to laugh. "Not possible, Sah! You look like the flippin' Abbot! I'm in need of a bally warrior!" the hare proclaimed in a mix of laughing and shouting.

"I am Abbot Dirkalt. You want to speak with me on behalf of Belorn, so speak," Dirkalt said, not wasting time.

"But how can you be the bally warrior, chap?" the hare asked. Dirkalt raised his habit sleeve to show his bulging muscle. This left the hare no doubt.

"Now then. Speak," Dirkalt said in monotone, becoming tired and trying to hurry the hare along.

"Well, the truth is, ole Belorn is in need of the warrior's help," the hare said.

"I am not a warrior. I'm not going down that path again," Dirkalt said. "What rank are you in the Long Patrol?"

"I'm Brigadier Thorn, Sah!" Thorn replied.

"A brigadier? Then you know that warriors change. You may have seen warriors stop being warriors in front of your eyes," Dirkalt said. "How does a brigadier come running errands like this?"

"Warriors change when a vermin puts an arrow through them. Salamandastron is under siege from corsairs unlike any other. I barely made it out alive. A lower-ranking, younger chap would've perished after five steps, wot!" Thorn responded. Dirkalt suppressed a chuckle.

"If you have a battle to prepare for, I'd hate to waste your time. I can gauge a fighter. You are valuable. If you're done here, Salamandastron most likely needs you," Dirkalt said.

"No, it doesn't, chap. Salamandastron needs you."

XXX

After much conversation and of course, a feast, Thorn was sent on his way to Salamandastron. The gates opened, unaware of the danger that lurked on the outside. Dirkalt closed the gates shortly after the hare exited. Then, he saw an arrow lying on the ground.

_Now how long have you been here, my dear?_ Dirkalt thought, looking at the arrow. When he looked closer, he noticed it was a decently crafted arrow. One that looked _too_ familiar.

_"No! Who could have done this?" Dirkalt screamed._

_ "I think you know as well as I do," the old badger said._

_ "Look at the arrow. Along the shaft, it's inscribed! Some sort of symbol… What does it mean?" Dirkalt asked, his habit covered in blood from the pool below him._

_ "Down the entire length of the arrow, if you look, the two lines merge at the bottom. What does that symbol look like to you?" the badger asked._

_ "I don't believe he would go this far," Dirkalt stated._

_ "Then you have no idea what he is capable of," the badger said._

Dirkalt stared at the sky, knowing what was about to happen. "Brigadier! Come back, _now!_" he screamed at the top of his lungs. He climbed to the battlements, watching for the hare. He could see nothing on the path, but he could hear the scream that followed. _Vaglu is coming! He will kill me… unless I get him first!_

XXX

"Captain Lorga has pillaged these shores for far too long!" Belorn shouted. His soldiers were assembled in Salamandastron's mess hall. The Long Patrol was through with letting themselves be terrorized by corsairs.

"Eulalia! 'S death on the wind! No mercy! It's time to end the reign of corsairs!" Belorn bellowed. His shouts echoed throughout the entire hall, boosting the morale of his soldiers. Belorn knew it was morale they would need. Lorga was not a typical corsair. He was cunning and intelligent. Who knew if the Long Patrol would be able to win?

XXX

"So you're going to help me with this?" Lorga asked the cloaked figure.

"Indeed. They are my enemies as well," the figure said. "I expect you to honor your part as well. Failing to do so may be hazardous."


	4. Heartbeat

**The aforementioned cloaked figure is indeed Vaglu. That wasn't meant to be a secret from you guys, but from the corsairs. Much Ado About Nonny: I'm sure you perfectly understand my replies, as they are SO organized. ^^ I'm getting to the point where the secrets are ridiculous, so I'll spill more details in the next two chapters. So a few parts of the mysteries will be revealed… sorta. I'm still playing it close to the chest.**

Heartbeat

Dirkalt wasted no time. When he heard the scream, he opened one of the gates and slipped out, trying to cloak himself with the surrounding darkness. He remembered the last time he had ever heard such a scream.

_"Where is he?" Dirkalt asked._

_ "He was with Vaglu the last time I saw him," a hedgehog answered._

_ "No. He'll be gone, just like his wife. This never should have happened," Dirkalt said, looking at the knife and looking at himself. He cast these thoughts aside and rallied the two otters that were relaxing at the pond. The three beasts exited the gates, finding themselves too late._

"Why does he hate us?" Dirkalt asked aloud.

"Who, Grandpa?" Lyra asked, hearing Dirkalt from inside the Abbey walls. Dirkalt ignored the question and tiptoed out of the Abbey. He stepped onto the South Path, walking gingerly to where he thought the hare would be. He stepped silently, one foot in front of the other, his eyes analyzing every single object running along the path. It took him minutes to walk a few yards. After a few minutes of near-perfect silence, Dirkalt was sure he was alone. He walked with normal speed, searching for _something_, anything that could track the hare. He saw a small blood-trail a few feet from the edge of the path. He sniffed the air and stood still. Thorn's attackers could've been anywhere.

After a few moments of silence, Dirkalt decided he was still safe. He followed the blood trail for inches before it ended. Brigadier Thorn lay on his stomach, a single arrow lodged in his back. Dirkalt slowly removed the arrow and ripped off a small chunk of his habit sleeve. Then he used the fabric to try to wipe away the blood. The wound didn't seem to draw much blood as Dirkalt applied pressure to it. Dirkalt was elated. Perhaps Thorn would live.

Dirkalt picked up Thorn's unconscious body and draped it across one of his shoulders, carrying him like a sack of fruit. He held the brigadier in such a position that he could constantly observe the wound. Nobeast attacked them. Dirkalt hoped the attackers had left.

When he was a few feet away from the gate, an arrow launched. Dirkalt ducked and the arrow harmlessly bounced off the stone wall. Dirkalt turned and saw a fox holding a bow. The noticeable thing, however, was the black fur. Dirkalt associated it with Vaglu, whispering the name under his breath.

"You're no longer allowed behind these walls!" Dirkalt yelled to the fox. The fox's response was to nock another arrow and fire. It was intentionally aimed too high.

_He's playing with me,_ Dirkalt realized. He stepped back a few inches, closer to the Abbey gate. He turned to the fox. Its face bore a sinister smirk, but no scars. It wasn't Vaglu. He remembered the day Vaglu had come to the Abbey.

_"Please, you must care for him! He means no harm," the black fox said. The most memorable thing about this fox was that it was wearing only one sandal, located on his left foot. The Redwallers had found it strange when they noticed it, but didn't ask about it._

_ "And you will want to stay with him, I suppose," Dirkalt hissed._

_ "Oh no, no! He knows the way back home. After he's well enough, he'll come and find me," the black fox said. Dirkalt looked at the beast the black fox was carrying. It was another black fox, with one sandal on his right foot. The face was horribly scarred and bruised. This fox had made the wrong beasts angry._

_ "What is his name?" Dirkalt asked._

_ "Vaglu. Please save him!" And Dirkalt took the fox in, making the biggest mistake of his life._

"Who are you?" Dirkalt asked, shouting at the fox.

"My name is Vaglu the Demon," the fox said, his voice barely audible.

"You're not. Those wounds were beyond healing," Dirkalt challenged.

"Foxes lie," the fox reasoned.

Dirkalt stepped into the gate at last, handing Thorn off to a mousemaid. Two Redwallers made sure the gates were closed, and Dirkalt stepped onto the battlements, observing the fox's movements. The fox was gone.

Thought he was shaken, Dirkalt ignored his own feelings and dashed off towards the Infirmary. Thorn was lying on the bed closest to the doors.

"Brigadier! Are you okay?" Dirkalt asked.

"Ugh. I feel like a flippin' punching bag," Thorn grumbled.

"What's going on at Salamandastron?" Dirkalt asked.

"Isn't it a little late to be asking that bally question?" Thorn asked, weakly. His voice was becoming a mere whisper.

"Humor me," Dirkalt pleaded.

"Belorn is under siege by flippin' corsairs. They kill anyone that tries to leave the bloomin' mountain. Belorn sent a few hares as a distraction. I barely made it out of their reach in time, wot wot," Thorn whispered. "I was the only chap that could make it out without being seen."

Dirkalt turned to the Infirmary Keeper. "Is he going to die? Can he tell me more?"

"The arrow didn't cause him to draw blood. It didn't break him enough to bleed him to death. It looks like it destroyed a part of his spine, however. I don't think he'll be able to survive much longer. His legs are completely paralyzed," the mouse answered. Then as if in response to her statement, Thorn convulsed. Dirkalt ran to his side and squeezed his paw, begging him to live. Thorn's shaking fit stopped, and Dirkalt checked Thorn's heartbeat. The heartbeat began to weaken very slowly. It sounded like a bell, almost. Hit it once, and it rings loud, but as slows down, the pendulum inside makes a quieter and quieter sound. Eventually, it completely stops.

The gates of the Dark Forest opened and shut. Brigadier Thorn had been killed by a vermin's arrow and died in the walls of Redwall minutes later.

XXX

The hares began checking their weapons repeatedly. This could be their last day to live, and they knew it. Belorn had announced to Lorga that it was his last day to live unless he left the shores forever. Lorga refused. He signed his death certificate in doing it.

Belorn gave the orders for the gate to be opened. It had been several days since he dispatched Thorn. He was reluctant to charge without him, but he knew it would have to be done. The gate swung open, hares charging out like air charging out of a popped balloon. Lorga's corsairs were overwhelmed by the numbers, but they mobilized quickly enough.

Lorga turned to the cloaked figure behind him. "Did your plan account for _this?_"

"Yes. Actually, it depended on this. Those fools just sent themselves to die. Have the corsairs back up, and make sure they're far away from the main gate. If you don't, this plan will be lost," the figure said. Then, a figure in a matching black cloak approached the first one.

"My replacement is here. I have business to attend to elsewhere," the figure said, throwing off the hood of his cloak. It was a black fox. His snout was crooked and his face was disfigured by a beating received from a badger. _Belorn._ Vaglu the Demon began to walk through the woods.

**The "one foot in front of the other" thing is a method of walking that escapes me currently, but it's used when you're balancing on something narrow. You know, you put one foot in front, touching the front of the foot you have in back. It annoys me that my memory isn't working for me today.**


	5. Eruption

**It's countdown time. Only a few more chapters for Flickering Torch.**

Eruption

The festive mood that had surrounded the residents during the feast had been all but destroyed. The mood died with Brigadier Thorn. Dirkalt blamed himself for that death, despite consoling from his friends.

"It _was_ my fault. I should've noticed the arrow on the path!" Dirkalt shouted.

The Infirmary Keeper, however, thought differently. "His legs still would've been paralyzed. His death was a favor to him either way!"

"I never should've been so hasty to get rid of him," Dirkalt said, anxiety hanging over him like a cloak.

"Why were you so quick to get rid of our guest?"

"He wanted my help," Dirkalt answered.

"On what, Father Abbot?"

"He wanted the help of a mouse warrior named Dirkalt. I don't know that mouse. I am not that mouse anymore," Dirkalt stated.

"Most certainly not. Doing so would render the Abbey hypocritical, if our own Abbot was a murderer."

"Of course. You're right, of course. I should never have let him in," Dirkalt said. He pretended to be satisfied with his conversation, although he couldn't have been more distraught. He had let a hare of the Long Patrol be murdered feet away from a legendary place of healing. The knife began to look more and more promising to Dirkalt, more promising than giving Lyra something to live for herself. No! It was a selfish thought. He had to give her something.

_"I loved her! I would never have done this! Are you so dumb and so blind that you don't notice what's right in front of you?" Vaglu asked, weeping over Willow's corpse._

_ "All I see is you holding the knife that killed my daughter!" Dirkalt screamed._

"He is a madbeast! Would he really go this far?" Dirkalt asked himself. _Vaglu would go as far as it takes! He wants me dead, that's what he wants! How far will he go to get it?_

XXX

Ten arrows flew over the Abbey walls, all at once. They landed in arbitrary locations. Dirkalt thought this was some sort of signal, perhaps a ploy to get attention. Dirkalt stumbled up the battlements, weary from the past days' events. He hoisted his head above the battlements and looked down. There were nine assorted vermin, bows in their hands, standing in a line. Behind the vermin, there was the black fox. It had been several days since Dirkalt's encounter with the black fox, but he recognized the beast. At least, that's what Dirkalt thought.

XXX

Vaglu the Demon enjoyed watching the reactions of his little ploys. Really, he knew Redwall couldn't do anything to him. When he formed his plan ten years ago, he made sure of that. The past seasons had been so peaceful that Redwall hardly carried any weapons at all. Vaglu had destroyed or hid most of the weapons in Redwall before he was kicked out for a double murder that he didn't commit. _Partly._

_ Vaglu was walking with the mouse, now. He had him outside the Abbey walls. The mouse looked up at Vaglu, pondering._

_ "Are you sure there are no hard feelings, Vaglu? Willow has been worried, recently."_

_ "Worried? About what?" Vaglu asked, faking shock._

_ "She's worried about you, Vaglu. She doesn't want to see you in pain."_

_ "I'm not in pain. In honesty, I couldn't be happier," Vaglu said, procuring the knife from inside his cloak._

_ "No! What are you doing?" the mouse asked, backing away slowly. Vaglu jumped faster than the mouse could run. A black-furred hand clasped over the mouse's mouth, muffling the screams and pleas for help. _

_ "You know who else was killed with this knife?" Vaglu asked, bringing it closer to the mouse's throat. "Ask Willow when you see her in the Dark Forest, you filthy, cowardly, tyrant!" Vaglu whispered these words so quietly, the sound barely entered the mouse's ears. Vaglu pressed the knife slowly into the mouse's neck. As the blood dripped out, Vaglu laughed. The mouse had always been weak. He struggled under Vaglu's grip like a mousebabe in the claw of a cat. There was no escape._

_ Blood continued to spill as the knife was pressed deeper and deeper into the mouse's neck. Vaglu continued to laugh, releasing his hold on the mouse. The wound was too taxing for the mouse to get up and run. Vaglu then proceeded to eviscerate the mouse, making sure it looked like a cat had attacked, rather than a vengeful fox._

The memories brought him immense pleasure, knowing he would inflict such pain against every beast in the Abbey. _Save for one._

"Vaglu!" a ferret whispered behind him, urgency in his voice.

"What is it?" Vaglu shouted, whipping around.

"There are several otters attempting to ambush us. Our sweepers picked them up when we examined the area," the ferret replied.

"Good," Vaglu said, turning away.

The ferret was amazed that Vaglu didn't act on the information.

"So, we should let them kill us?" the ferret asked. Vaglu whipped around and slapped him across his nose.

"Put archers up in the trees! Assemble all our men in that clearing," he indicated with a claw, "And then give those beasts hell!"

"Of course," the ferret said, rubbing his snout.

XXX

"Work, work, work! That's all my brother makes me do! When we're done with this plan, I will kill him!" the black fox growled. This fox was the one with the uninjured face. He had successfully crept into the bottom-most level of Salamandastron. He had a few stoats and weasels with him. They were digging farther down into the mountain. Why? They planned to hide in the lowest part of the mountain. Vaglu hadn't actually elaborated this part of their plan, but the black fox decided to wing it and conquer this mountain his own way. He knew the tunnel would take awhile, but they were in place.

Meanwhile, on the outside, Lorga was directing the battle. Belorn had set fire to his escape boats. This would end now. Lorga knew he had very little chance. Belorn was clad in full battle armor, grabbing vermin and ripping them apart. Many hares lay dead, but perhaps many more corsairs were dead. His final archer line had all their concentration on Belorn. Despite all the arrows in that badger's armor, he refused to die. His blood pumped, and he was a madbeast.

Finally, most of the Long Patrol had made their way through Lorga's army. Lorga drew his sword, prepared to fight to the death. The line of archers in front of him dropped dead, arrows sticking out from most of them. Lorga realized what had happened. Long Patrol archers were deadly in their efficiency.

Three hares took Lorga head on. He easily stabbed the first one, a green soldier. Then he slashed at one who countered, which he anticipated. He reached forward and grabbed the hare's shoulder, throwing him into the third hare. But then, the number of hares grew. He could barely counter each swing. Finally, as he kept backpedalling, he ran into something cold and hard. He turned around to see Belorn. The badger grabbed the beast that had cost him so many lives. Lorga felt himself being ripped apart before his vision left him. Blood splattered everywhere as the corsair's dismembered body fell out of the badger's hands. Lorga was dead.

XXX

The black fox could hear the beasts running in, cheering loudly. The battle had been won, or so they believed.

"Dig faster! They're coming!" the black fox hissed. Their tunnel was almost complete. Then, a weasel looked up intently.

"Boss, you should see this!" the weasel stated.

"What?" the black fox asked. He looked down in the hole. "What is that thing?"

In the hole was a strange, orange liquid. It was starting to come out fast. Then, the vermin in the hole started to scream. They were being burned!

The black fox tried to run, but he couldn't run fast enough. The bottom of the hole exploded. Orange liquid spewed everywhere. The black fox was hit, and he died almost instantly.

Meanwhile, Belorn had just removed his armor and was nursing his wounds. He heard hares scream below him. _What now?_ He asked himself. He didn't have time to ask many more questions or even think. The floor below him exploded, orange liquid moving swiftly up the mountain. All the hares inside and the Badger Lord were now dead. Finally, the top of the mountain exploded open, orange liquid gushing out to Mossflower Wood. The battle that had begun on the coast was now concluded. There were no survivors.


	6. Finishing the Game

**WARNING- Heavy emotional trauma ahead! If you are more sensitive to, say, descriptions of suicide, this chapter is not for you.**

Finishing the Game

Abbot Dirkalt just knew. He didn't need reasoning or to see it with his eyes. He knew when he saw the explosion in the distance that countless beasts were now dead. He prayed that one of the beasts was Vaglu, but he knew it could not have been. The one he knew as Vaglu was horribly beaten and standing somewhere outside the Abbey.

_This is how far that monster will go. He will bring the same fate upon us. He will not stop until I am dead. Maybe my suicide is the only thing that can bring peace to Mossflower Woods._

Then, he heard the scream. He looked over the battlements. Skipper of the Otters was leading several of his warriors into battle! The odds were with him, it appeared. Vaglu only had five other weasels and rats with him. _But what happened to his other beasts?_

Dirkalt watched as the Skipper wielded his otter javelin like a club, bludgeoning the nearest rat. The otters gained confidence after seeing they weren't dealing with very good fighters. Three sauntered forward, cautiously. Two rats held their swords close, their bodies indicating fear. The Skipper looked into the rats' eyes, however, and found nothing. Nothing was what you always found in the eyes of vermin. The heartless creatures never showed emotion in their eyes, save for a few. Those emotions were fear and elation. Fear of getting killed, elation from killing.

Arrows flew from the bows of the hidden archers. Three struck the three approaching otters. The time that the otters had used to walk so slowly had given the vermin enough time to aim. The wounds were grievous. The three otters were struck in their necks, dropping dead as blood spurted everywhere. The fourth arrow landed in the Skipper's shoulder.

The archers wasted little time in reloading. Arrows flew like rain from the sky. Skipper pulled his beasts back. _I lost three of my best mates to that fox!_ The Skipper ordered his beasts off the path and through the woods toward the Abbey. They needed to fight in the open where Vaglu couldn't surprise them. The evening sun hung low in the sky, providing little light. The otters used the cover of darkness to run to the Abbey's front gate.

There were few trees near the Abbey gate. These trees were also very bare. The archers would not be able to find decent cover. The otters would notice any movement in the trees.

"Otters, prepare your javelins! Fire at the first vermin ya see!" Skipper ordered. The remaining otters, around 16, armed themselves and surveyed the surrounding area. Then, several of the vermin began to climb the trees. Otters threw their javelins, but the vermin were climbing on the other side of the trunk, safe.

Abbot Dirkalt decided it was time for him to interfere. "Skipper! It's been a long time! How would your men like a hot meal and some work on your shoulder, eh?"

"You don't notice the vermin outside, do ya, me matey?" Skipper asked. The vermin shot a few arrows that landed a few feet in front of the otter's foot. A little bit higher in the tree and the vermin would have excellent vantage points to snipe the Skipper's beasts.

"Will you reconsider now?" Dirkalt shouted back.

"Aye!"

The gates were opened.

XXX

_"I love you. It's just as a friend. We could never be anything more than that," the mousemaid said._

_ "Why? Because of your father? Willow, forget him! I can make him go away. I can do many things," Vaglu said, pleading with her, begging for a last chance._

_ "Meyal didn't tell you?" Willow asked, surprise in her voice._

_ "He didn't tell me what?" Vaglu asked, annoyance in his voice._

_ "Oh, Vaglu. We're staying together. We're going to give Lyra a proper home, and maybe some sibling," Willow said, as happy as she had ever been._

_ Vaglu drew the knife from his back pocket. He grabbed Willow's wrist. "It was much easier without him, you know. It would be much easier without him."_

_ "Let go of me," Willow said, enunciating each word slowly. "I think it's time you left. It's late."_

_ "I don't believe in that hideous word, late. It's never late for anything. Death, forgiveness, time," Vaglu growled._

_ "It's too late to change anything, Vaglu. I'm staying with Meyal. It's just easier that way," Willow stated._

_ "It's not easier for me," Vaglu whispered._

_ "It's past the point where I care about what's easier for you." Willow's tone had changed. Vaglu released her wrist and dropped the knife at her feet. He stormed out of her room, slamming the door shut._

_ Tears streamed from Willow's eyes. She couldn't think clearly. _This is the only way to end this madness! I just wish Vaglu would understand!_ Willow wiped her face with her habit sleeve and bent down._ How silly of Vaglu to leave his knife here. He never was very careful with his weapons._ Willow picked up the knife._ I just can't take it anymore! In all I do, I just end up hurting everyone! _Her heart began to beat faster as the knife penetrated her neck, sending blood flowing down her body. The overwhelming, burning pain forced her to the ground. She almost stopped to call for help. She retracted the knife. The first wound wasn't deep enough. She could live through this._

_ Thoughts of Vaglu flew into her head. Then, she remembered the sheer agony. It was too much. She felt with her paw for the first wound. She then sliced above it. The tears flowed, mingling with blood and drenching her clothes._

_ She fell to the fetal position on the ground. Slowly, the blood and tears stopped coming. Her body was slowing down. Her heart was beating fainter and fainter. Her body was surrounded by blood. A mousemaid had taken her life in the most horrible way._

That was the story Dirkalt refused to believe. He always blamed Vaglu for Willow's horrific suicide. It had been so gruesome. Meyal probably would've died of shock. Dirkalt had only let a few beasts into her room. Vaglu wasn't one of them, but he got in anyway. That was when they had their shouting match. That was when Dirkalt had promised to kill Vaglu if he ever saw him again.

Dirkalt's vows of peace were quickly becoming unraveled. Dirkalt knew the game Vaglu was playing. It was a game Dirkalt had avoided for ten years. The game was to see who could kill who first. The prize was satisfaction. _Tonight will be that night. I'm through with running. Come midnight, Vaglu is mine._

XXX

Only a few hours had passed since the battle with the otters. Vaglu had made camp away from the Abbey, leaving his vermin alone. Vaglu had told them he was going on his own side mission. He had taken a bow and a single arrow.

Vaglu knew Abbot Dirkalt as a creature of habit. If something ever bothered Dirkalt, he would always pace the battlements. It was there that Vaglu would end the game. He knew Dirkalt had been avoiding the game. He knew Dirkalt had tried to make peace throughout the woods. He knew Dirkalt couldn't last much longer knowing that the beast that "killed" his daughter was prowling only so many yards away.

Vaglu climbed one of the Abbey's historic landmarks. This tree was the famous tree used by Cluny the Scourge to almost make a bridge into the Abbey. Well, Cluny had been a fool. This tree had many better uses. Vaglu nocked the one arrow he had to his bow. As he suspected, Abbot Dirkalt was pacing the battlements. The old mouse was almost in the perfect position. He pulled the arrow halfway back, taking his aim.

XXX

Abbot Dirkalt paced the battlements. His emotions were eating him from the inside out. When in this situation, Dirkalt always paced the battlements. He always said to himself that the altitude cleared his thoughts. He held Lyra's tiny paw in his. His granddaughter had decided to stroll with him. They walked in silence. Then, they rounded a battlement corner.

XXX

_What? No! He has the child with him! It wasn't supposed to be like this. I can't have anything harm Lyra! She's the only one in that accursed place that deserves to breathe!_ They were coming closer now. Vaglu pulled the arrow back all the way. The aim was perfect. All he had to do was let go and Dirkalt would be dead. But at what cost? _I can't do this. I'm not sure if it would be worth it._

XXX

_Tonight is the night for revenge, finally! If I don't kill Vaglu tonight, he will come and kill me first. I refuse to allow him that kind of pleasure. This pleasure will be all mine._ Dirkalt was happy now, with only a dash of paranoia. He had the scenes played out in his mind. The plan was perfect. He was safe now. He knew he could kill Vaglu in hand-to-hand combat, especially with the upper hand of surprise. _There is nothing to worry about anymore. Vaglu is mine._ Then, an arrow went clean through his skull, killing him instantly and splattering blood over Lyra.


	7. Crumbling

**Countdown. There are only two chapters left of Flickering Torch.**

Crumbling

Vaglu lined up the shot. Regret swarmed him. Murdering his lifelong enemy in front of the one beast he thought was worth sparing just wasn't right. He fought himself to keep his hand from releasing the arrow nocked to it. _The aim is perfect. He would be dead instantly. It's not the death he deserves – he deserves something much more painful – but it would work. But Lyra! I can't let her see something like this! Not if we're going to live together, far away from all of these hideous monsters!_

Vaglu thought he had convinced himself not to fire the arrow. Then, when Dirkalt and Lyra were almost to the tree, Vaglu's mind began to change. _Think, Vaglu, of all that mouse has cost you! He made your life hell! You should ruin his life in exchange! Oh, but I did. He still thinks I killed Willow. But he's wrong! I would never have killed her!_ The last sentence screamed itself over and over in Vaglu's mind. Finally, he released the arrow without a moment's hesitation. He felt that the arrow currently flying was delivering justice. Then, the shaft sailed through Dirkalt's head. Blood splattered as the mouse's head broke open. The falling corpse almost crushed Lyra. The Dibbun barely managed to avoid her grandfather's dead body before it tipped off the battlements.

"Grandpa!" The screams placed doubt in Vaglu's mind. He began to question the decision again. But it was far too late. He cackled quite loudly and descended from the tree. Their game had finally come to an end. The cost no longer mattered.

_I could pull back everything right now. I _should_ pull back everything now. But Dirkalt's death! It was something he so deserved! Justice needs to be served for every one of those creatures in that damn abbey! Why should they be allowed to live for what they did to me?_

XXX

Vaglu allowed several days to go by. He wanted Redwall Abbey to feel the pain from the Abbot's death. All of his forces from Salamandastron had relocated. The news of the black fox's death was relayed to Vaglu. "Good. It's about time he passed on. So it should be for anyone that wrongs me."

A new Abbot was named, not that it mattered. The murder, and the manner it was committed in, sent shock through the Abbey. They knew how much of a beast Vaglu was. He knew no boundaries. He had no morals.

"If he dared to fire an arrow into our walls, so close to a child, he will not stop now. He has no reason to," the new abbot stated.

"Wrong! So few of us were around ten years ago! This madness should be ended with that mouse's death," an Abbey dweller argued.

"Some of us were, though! If he went this far for Dirkalt, how far will he go for the rest?"

"None of the others did to him what Dirkalt did."

"Do you even know what Dirkalt did?"

"It doesn't take a brainless bird to deduce that Vaglu was abused here."

"We would never!"

"Physically? What about emotionally?"

"These events are the fault of one creature: Vaglu! There's nothing we can do but defend ourselves until he decides we are not worth it!"

"He's been waiting to kill Dirkalt for ten years! Can we defend ourselves for ten years?"

Then, a new voice joined the argument. "It's Vaglu's fault? Lies! What did you do to him when he was here? Why did you make him hate us so much?"

The Abbot tried to defend himself. "Dirkalt and Willow tried to live normal lives. Vaglu interfered with that. How can we place the blame on our dead?"

"Quite easily, if they're guilty!"

"What if they're not?"

"Are they?"

Tensions were too high in the Abbey. The sacred sanctuary was starting to fall apart. Then, further inquisitions were brought before the Abbot.

"Why weren't we allowed to even _mention_ Willow or Vaglu? Was Dirkalt feeling too guilty for what he had done to the poor 'un?"

"I've had enough questions. Everyone off to bed!" The Abbot refused to take any other questions. The truth is the Abbot hadn't even been around in the time of Vaglu. He had entered the Abbey shortly after the entire Vaglu saga. He knew nothing about it. _Dirkalt would know what to do. If only we still had our great leader to save us!_

XXX

The Abbot tossed in his bed. He knew he couldn't keep the Abbey dwellers happy for much longer. "I just don't know how to do this! I wasn't even here during Vaglu's time! Why should I be expected to answer to the sins of my predecessor?" He paused briefly as a strange feeling entered his nose. "What _is_ that smell?"

The Abbot walked towards the window. His jaw dropped. He smelled smoke. He saw the gathering crowd of vermin outside the walls, their flames spreading rapidly. Vaglu's recruits were starting to torch the Abbey! He prayed that the walls could hold. He did not know how strong the walls were.

Unfortunately, age had also taken a toll on the Abbey. Vines had grown freely across the wall, helping to spread the fire. It wasn't the vines that finished the Abbey, however. Nor was it the age and near dilapidated state of the walls. The one part of the Abbey that held the fire was the gate. The Abbot watched in horror as Vaglu's men took fire to the Abbey gates. Black smoke poured into the night sky. The Abbot gazed wide-eyed as each piece of wood in the gate began to blacken and fall to ash below. The fire spread through the gate and caught on some of the grass. More fire spread into the Abbey grounds, some catching apple trees inside the Abbey walls. The fire had penetrated the Abbey. In seconds, so would Vaglu.

XXX

"At long last, I have finally returned to the place that scorned me!" Vaglu shrieked as he pointed to the Abbey, directing his bloodthirsty army. Around threescore beasts pushed themselves into the Abbey. They threw sticks of fire through the windows. The largest windows they shattered with rocks. The Friar cowered in Cavern Hole. A ferret approached him with a wicked stare.

"Do you fear death?" the ferret asked.

"Do what you will to me, you beast! May you rot on this earth." The ferret's knife found the Friar's neck. He pressed the sharp metal through the fur and skin. Blood dribbled, then flooded out. The Friar gave a brief squeak, exhaled, and fell. His corpse lay on the ground as blood flowed outwards like a pool around the body. The ferret continued to plunder and destroy.

Vaglu stood in the courtyard searching for Lyra. She was the only innocent creature in the Abbey as far as he was concerned. She was the only piece of Willow he had left. He had to find her and save her.

"Vaglu! Stop! Why do you hate us?" the Abbot called from his window. Vaglu never got the chance to answer. The Abbot suddenly fell from the window and thudded against the ground. The impact not only shattered his ribcage but also killed him instantly.

"Serves you right," Vaglu muttered as he walked towards the Abbey. By now, the main building of the Abbey was also on fire. He saw Abbey dwellers begin to run through the courtyard, only to be slaughtered by vermin. Blood spilled on the grasses of the Abbey. A building devoted to peace had finally been toppled by war.

Vaglu happened to wander into the Infirmary, where he saw Lyra. She was wet with tears, screaming for her grandpa. She cowered in one of the beds. "Come here, Lyra! I'll help you!"

"No! They said you hurt my grandpa!" Lyra screamed.

"No! No, no no!" They lie, can't you see! Did they tell you where your grandpa is?" Vaglu asked, trying to trick her.

"No! They said that-"

Then, the Infirmary floor weakened so much that it finally decided to give. Vaglu and Lyra fell through the rubble and fire. The little mousemaid's body was so small, so fragile, so weak. She was dead the second she hit the floor. Vaglu took several seconds until he regained his senses from the fall. He was on the floor of Cavern Hole. His leg had a great pain in it. He suspected it was broken.

"No! Lyra!" Vaglu screamed so loud that the cries of the Abbey dwellers that were being massacred and burned alive and the gleeful screams of the corsairs were almost blotted out. He cradled the dead little body. He kissed her cold forehead several times, trying to revive her. He had no idea what to do. He was reliving Willow's death all over again. This time was different, however. This time, Willow was completely dead. There was nothing left.

One of his generals approached him. "Vaglu, there are no survivors. This Abbey will not be standing in the morning. What should we do now?"

"Whatever you want to. There is nothing left for me in this barren land."

Then, Vaglu began to limp away. Behind him, the great building of peace burned into a blackened waste. The Abbey fire created a great light, as if drawing a beacon to form a new age of darkness. And the vermin danced.


	8. Passing

**Well, this is it! What started as a brief idea I had in the summer evolved into one of my personal favorite works. I've had a lot of fun writing this, and hopefully you all will enjoy the conclusion. I'm also slowly debating about the prequel. I feel it would ruin some of the mystery and fun in this story, but I would love to explore these characters a little deeper. Any thoughts?**

Passing

It was as if the world was torturing him for his final sin. Vaglu had limped his way to Salamandastron. The new dawn sun was slowly rising, but Vaglu could still see the smoke and flames of the Abbey. The Abbey was a flickering torch. The fire of peace was finally being extinguished in the night, replaced by a black smoke that covered the earth. Vaglu did not know what would happen at the Abbey or in Mossflower Wood. He did not want to. He could imagine the petty squabbles that would arise among the woodlanders that remained. He could imagine the vermin pillaging what was left of the once great Abbey. Most of all, he could clearly see Lyra's face in front of him. Her sad, downcast eyes looked on at him in shame. But were they really Lyra's? Vaglu could never know. She did, after all, have her mother's eyes.

The earth decided it wasn't completely finished torturing him. Having reached Salamandastron, Vaglu could now see the carnage inflicted by his orders. He approached the mountain wreckage. There are no words to describe what happens when a mountain citadel explodes from within. He saw piles of black dust and rocks placed everywhere. There were few signs that a fortress had once stood there. He could see half of the body of a hare, and several burned corpses. His eyes rolled back in his head briefly, and he vomited on the ground. The carnage was indescribable. He could only imagine what he would've seen back at the Abbey. He knew he had ordered those innocent woodlanders to be massacred. Their blood had been spilled needlessly. Their bodies had been burned for no reason. He had no personal grudges with anyone in that Abbey, he realized. It was all Dirkalt. It was just supposed to be Vaglu and Dirkalt.

And now, in spite of it all, Vaglu realized that Dirkalt had won in the end. While an arrow may have killed him, his death cost Vaglu his sanity. Dirkalt had driven Vaglu to an absolute madness. The worst punishment Dirkalt gave Vaglu was simply life. Vaglu would have to live, while Dirkalt did not have to live with anything. He did not murder dozens of woodlanders. Vaglu did. And now, with Dirkalt's ghost probably laughing at him, Vaglu had to gaze at the full extent of his power and how much he regretted his actions. He had never wanted to die so badly. Unfortunately, Vaglu realized that he had lost his knife. He reasoned that it fell out of his cloak when the Infirmary collapsed. He could not go back there.

_That bastard old mouse. He will never have to suffer like I did. I suffered at his hands as a child, and now that I've exacted my revenge, he still causes me to suffer! Damn you! May your body rot forever!_ Vaglu screamed these words over and over in his mind.

Vaglu saw a small boat drifting off the shore. He limped towards it, carefully stepping over his vomit. He jumped into the boat and used the oars to push off the shore. He drifted along the open waters. _I will never come back here._

"Did you end up getting what you wanted?" Vaglu almost jumped off the boat with shock.

"Who the hell are you? Where are you?" Vaglu asked, looking behind him and on the rest of the boat. He looked at the shore again, and then turned forward. In front of him sat a mouse with a sword.

"This isn't for you. Relax," the mouse said, motioning toward the sword.

"How did you get on this boat?" Vaglu hissed, trying to act tough and intimidating.

"Much the same way you did, I imagine. I sat down."

"There was no one on this boat when I jumped on."

"You didn't look carefully."

"Who are you?" Vaglu hissed a second time.

"Vaglu, how don't you recognize me? Look and think carefully, for it is up to you to tell me who I am. Sometimes I forget."

Vaglu thought he was being mocked, so he leapt at the mouse. Then, the mouse stood up. Vaglu stopped his charge, suddenly losing the will. The mouse was powerful, and his body bore the scars of many fights. His eyes knew pain, and his body knew age. But the sword began to terrify Vaglu. It was a magnificent sword. Then, when Vaglu looked closer, it appeared that the mouse was on fire. However, the fire didn't touch the boat, and the mouse gave no indication of feeling pain.

"Who are you?" Vaglu asked, quietly this time.

"I am what you destroyed. I am a symbol for the oppressed in Mossflower Wood. At least, I used to be. You changed things, Vaglu."

"You don't have to remind me. I'm no longer proud of what I did."

"You haven't answered my question," the mouse said.

"And that was?" Vaglu asked.

"Did you end up getting what you wanted?" the mouse asked.

Vaglu opened his mouth to respond, but then shut it. He didn't know what to say. Why?

"Let me ask you a simpler question. What is it you wanted?"

Vaglu thought about the question for minutes. What had he wanted? He had wanted revenge, and he had gotten it! But it wasn't anything like he had imagined it. It wasn't like opening a present you had wanted for ten years. Vaglu couldn't figure out what it was. He had come for revenge and had gotten something else. Why wasn't he happy with getting what he wanted?

"What is it you wanted?" the mouse asked again.

"Revenge," Vaglu answered, completely without confidence.

"What is revenge? Define it for me," the mouse ordered.

"Getting what you deserve."

"And who determines what you deserve? You?"

"Yes."

"That doesn't work. You don't know what you deserve. You're too biased to make that decision. There's nobody that can make that decision. Revenge is an easy way to destroy the world. Redwall Abbey was built as a building of peace. It endured through the ages. It ruled Mossflower Wood without having kings and soldiers. It ruled through spreading peace. Spreading revenge just leads to a pile of deadbeasts. It's not worth it."

"I know."

"So what did you want?" the mouse asked.

"I don't know anymore. I don't know what I expected to happen, but I never wanted this."

"What was your plan?"

"Kill Dirkalt."

"Why?"

"For what he did to me."

"Okay. Then what?"

"All right, but after this, I get a question."

"I'll gladly answer any of your questions right now. Be warned that you may not like the answers," the mouse said.

"Who are you? What's with the fire?"

"I am what you destroyed, as stated. I am on fire just as those I stood for were burned. I am a symbol for the oppressed, remember? I stood for freedom, and like you, I tried to get revenge. Unlike you, I had something to hold me back."

"What was that?"

"Good friends that cared about what I did to myself. I care what you do to yourself now, Vaglu. I know what you want now, and I beg you to go against it. But can we get back on topic? Then what, after killing Dirkalt?"

"I was supposed to get Lyra and we could have a good, safe life together in peace."

"You can't have peace after revenge."

"It sounds like you did."

"But I didn't. The revenge could never blot out the loss I had suffered. It seems that your plan caved. Why? You didn't grab Lyra after killing Dirkalt. You burned Redwall Abbey to the ground and I died a second time. Why?"

"I don't know. I couldn't stop myself. I had to make them all suffer. Except Lyra."

"Lyra was and always would have been one of them. You cannot change that. You'll have to except that."

"No! It could've worked."

"Understandable. You're in denial. Vaglu, listen! Lyra would not have brought Willow back, no matter how hard you tried. Willow is dead and will forever be dead. Lyra can't change that. Willow was Willow, Lyra was Lyra."

"I know that!"

"But you can't accept it. Why? Do you feel guilty for Willow's death?"

"Willow's death was not my fault. It was his!"

"Nobody can ever know the truth now, can they?"

"I know the truth."

"You know your version. Revenge is like a drug, Vaglu. It doesn't stop until it's too late."

"I know that now. But this isn't changing anything!"

"Nothing can be changed, Vaglu."

"Then how do I live with it?" Vaglu screamed at the mouse.

"That's the question everybeast has tried to answer since the beginning of life. You're just one more beast to ask that question. Everybeast finds their own way."

"But what can I do? I have nowhere to go?"

"I can't answer that. You'll have to figure out a way to cope on your own," the mouse said. "It appears my time is up. I have lots to do, you know. Please, Vaglu. Think about what I said. There's so much to live for, and you have work to do to get through this. I'll find you sometime soon. Good morning, Vaglu."

As the mouse disappeared, Vaglu realized how far out the boat had drifted. Also, the morning sun was plain in the sky. It was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen, that morning sunrise on the waters. He pulled a small bag out of his cloak. It was a drug he learned to make from the Painted Ones. He had never needed it. Redwall Abbey had been conquered easier than he planned. He had over planned for the Abbey invasion. Now, he drank the contents of the bag. It was a powerful sleeping drug. He hoped his overdose would kill him. He could feel himself slowly falling asleep, but he couldn't tell if it was fatal. He had only felt like this once before, when he had come near death a different time.

As he looked where the mouse had once sat, he saw a strange piece of cloth. When he looked, he saw it was a small piece of weaving. His eyesight left him before he could figure out what was on this mysterious cloth.

His eyes closed and he fell asleep. His heart began to beat slower and slower, weaker and weaker. And so, another torch began to flicker.


End file.
